My hair is sopping wet but I can’t be bothered to leave my bed and dry it. I have to work early in the morning, and should try to get some sleep, but I can’t be bothered. I mean, I’ll be bothered by morning when I wake up with wild kinks and an impossible-to-work-with mane, but for now, I can’t be bothered to move.

Life is busy, hey? I am not sure where half of my world is; they’re all saturated in work and family or school and love … or something between love and much less. And it’s my fault for not keeping up with them all, but it’s so busy.

Busy is such a distraction, and I despise the word for its existence. Read the rest of this entry »

I was fresh at university, nineteen years old, when I had to get a surgery. It’s a weird surgery my mom is convinced is for those who hang out on their computers too long, called a Ganglionectomy. Basically they removed a cyst from my wrist that was making my fingers move on their own in a painful kind of way. Anyhow, not the point.

So I had this surgery, and then, everything sucked.

At the same time of this surgery, I was dating this guy I’d say was my first real boyfriend. He was obviously handsome, and hilarious. But I had this surgery and after puking up all the anesthetic, I got a call from him on my navy blue Nokia cell phone.

“I can’t see you anymore. You’re marriage material and I can’t do that right now,” he said. Read the rest of this entry »

People kind of look at me funny because I have friends who so happen to be male. I wanted to show a big long pause here in this blog post to emphasize how awkward it is that people look at you sideways when you have friends of the opposite sex that you aren’t having sex with, but I don’t know how to do that well.

I remember when I was mentoring some chicks in junior high, there was this weird saying about not making purple. That’s when guys (blue) didn’t hang out with girls (red) because otherwise it would make purple.

Actually, that doesn’t make sense written down either. Can’t blue sit beside red and not hump … er … I mean sex … um, I mean … ? Yes, yes they can. Read the rest of this entry »

I had been the good kid. I think God looked down on me and He wasn’t so worried. Every night, I thought He put stars in the sky like a reminder to me of how good I was.

“One more star for you Deanna Tucker, good Deanna Tucker.” I’m pretty sure that’s what He said.

I trusted Him, I was available to Him, we were buds and then something hit me like a ton of bricks and it got eerily silent. Really silent. For much too long, silent.

I felt a little like that guy in the Bible who wondered where God went while his life went to hell in a moment. I guess sometimes I still wonder. But the more I talk to you all, the more I realize I’m not the only one wondering where He goes. Read the rest of this entry »

The trouble with ghosts is that they don’t even speak, they don’t even whisper. They motion us forward, they move through us, they flutter between us, and too often in response, so do we.

We listen to them like little addictions, the ghosts that can’t even talk. You cannot succeed, you will not be loved, they will not care, it isn’t enough, you will never change.

We can’t stop feeling lost, being lost, losing peace, losing sleep. But we can’t seem to stop listening either.

There is too much resting in the unknown, I think. And whether we want to acknowledge it or not, we’re hearing what we can’t see and following what we don’t fully understand.

I know a woman whose heart is made of gold. It was made purely of gold and mercy, of God, and a little bit of wilderness. She teaches people first how to dance, second how to pray, third how to change a tire, and fourth how to protect your heart. Except, she learned what she wasn’t supposed to as a child too. Read the rest of this entry »

I cried on my way to work this morning. It felt appropriate with the news in Nice, of Taliyah Marsman and her mother Sarah Baillie. I didn’t know them, any of them, but my heart is broken a thousand ways.

There are a million posts popping up on social media everywhere. How sad it is, how sickening it is, how we need to hold our little ones close.

I should be working, but I can’t think about transcripts while all this keeps running through my head. Perhaps I shouldn’t write upset. Instead I’m thinking about what other mundane thing I can quit so I can love people – all people – more, love them better, love them more truly. Read the rest of this entry »

I think it’s weird when we ask this question. And by we, I mostly mean us girls. So listen up ladies; as one of you, this funny-not-funny question needs to quit showing up in conversation, especially with each other.

Let me start with a bit of background, so you get where I’ve come from before I lay out my case.

My mom was given an ultimatum when she was pregnant with me. Apparently two  kids was company, and three was unnecessary. “Get rid of the kid, or leave me,” he said. Thankfully, my mom chose the latter. She chose me. Not that she didn’t want to choose my whole family, but that wasn’t the option. Read the rest of this entry »